


Wake Up Call

by Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Nudity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-04
Updated: 2012-09-04
Packaged: 2017-11-13 13:21:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/503958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte/pseuds/Annabeth_Crestfallen_LeMorte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a difficult case, Castiel wakes Dean up with a surprise.  *not what you're thinking*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wake Up Call

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, they remain the property of their respective owners. I'm just borrowing them to play for a little bit. All the stories are done for fun, not profit.

“Dean.”

The voice is as tentative as the shove on his shoulder and Dean burrows further into his pillow with a groan.  He knows without opening his eyes that it’s barely past dawn and he’s not ready to give up his well-earned rest.

“Dean.”

A growl rumbles out of his throat and he pulls the ratty motel bedspread up over his head, “Leave me alone, Cas.”

Another shove and then a small shake as the bed dips under the angel’s weight, “Dean…wake up.  Don’t you know what today is?”

Without meaning to, he’s groaning again, if only because the shove jostles his injured shoulder, a souvenir from the night before.  His voice is muffled as he rolls onto his stomach, “Cas, I swear to G-“

“Dean,” he can almost hear the reprimand in Castiel’s voice, “I just thought that you would wish to start today early.”

He squeezes his eyes shut and counts to ten, long enough for Castiel to lean over him.  Without warning, Dean whips the pillow out from under the bedspread and smacks the angel in the face with it, all without emerging from under the covers, “Cas, I don’t care if it’s Free Blowjob Day at The Bunny Ranch!”

“Dean,” that one word conveys the confusion of the next question, “What is a blow-?”

“NO!”  Dean cuts him off because they are so not, “We are so not having this conversation, Castiel!  You want to know what a blowjob is, you ask the Pizza Man, because I am not…no, just no.”

The tug on the bedspread is gentle and Dean covers his head with both arms as the tops of his shoulders are bared.  He growls again in frustration as more of his skin is bared, gooseflesh prickling as the chill in the room washes over his torso.  It’s when the blanket reaches the small of his back that Dean remembers he’s naked.  A second later, Castiel has pulled the covers off of him entirely, leaving him completely exposed.

“Dean…is it not customary for people to wear nightgowns to sleep?”

The snort of laughter is involuntary, because the question is just so… _Cas._ Dean rubs his face in the pillow and groans when he realizes that he can’t just roll over now, not unless he wants to explain to the clueless angel what ‘morning wood’ is.  “Cas, nightgowns are what women wear to sleep and even then only some women.”

“Huh,” the sound is contemplative and Dean is not expecting what Castiel says next, “You have freckles on your rear.”

Dean is up, turned around and sitting against the headboard in record time, “DUDE!  Seriously, what the fuck?”

Castiel’s head is cocked to the side in that oh so familiar pose, just watching him.  Dean is glad the pillow is in his lap because when the tip of Castiel’s tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip, Dean feels a rush of heat pool in his loins.  He can feel his cheeks flush and he ducks his head, clearing his throat, simply because he doesn’t know what else to do.  He’s naked _and_ hard…and Cas is just _looking_ at him.  The angel’s not doing anything untoward, but Dean is more turned on than he’s been in a very long time.

“Dean…”

The sound of his name on those lips makes him squeeze his eyes shut before he answers, voice harsh, thick with lust, “What, Cas?”  He leans his head back against the headboard, eyes still closed, that damned throbbing between his legs getting worse.

“Is today not a special day for you?”

Dean squints at Castiel and asks confusedly, “You’ve known me how long and you’re wondering _now_ if Sunday is special for me?  What the hell, man?”

Castiel’s face closes down and for a second Dean swears he looks hurt.  When he looks up again, the expression is gone, “I meant the date, but it does not matter.  I was obviously mistaken.  I will go.”

 _What in the hell is going on?_ Castiel is standing up and Dean really doesn’t want him to go so he grabs the nearest thing he can: the sleeve of the other man’s coat.  “Cas, what’s up?  You’re acting weird, man.  I mean, weirder than usual.  Will you just tell me what today’s date is?”

The sigh is frustrated and Dean can’t help but smile at the sound.  “It is January 23rd, Dean.  I thought…” Castiel shakes his head and doesn’t continue; instead he sits back down, silently staring at where his sleeve is clutched in Dean’s fingers.

Again Dean furrows his brow, trying to think of the significance of the date and nothing.  “Drawing a blank, Cas.  Why don’t you enlighten me?”  Whatever else he was going to say is cut off by a small yawn.  Releasing the angel to rub the heels of his hands against his eyes, Dean is not surprised when Castiel stands up.

“The sign in the store said it was National Pie Day and since I know it is customary to celebrate special occasions, I,” Dean looks up in time to see him shrug.  “I should not have assumed.  As I said before, I shall go.”

“Stop.  Don’t.  You.  Dare.” 

Castiel is staring at him again and Dean can practically feel his eyes on him as he moves to pull on his jeans.  His skin tingles with the heat of the angel’s gaze as he stands, carefully pulling his jeans shut around his erection.  Looking up, he catches the way Castiel’s eyes dart down to his groin for a second before meeting his eyes again.  “You wish me to stay?”

Dean gives him a genuine smile, “Dude…you just said it’s pie day…I have to take you out and…” He moves around the other man to retrieve his shirt from where he’d draped it over the back of the chair and stops.  The motel’s cheap formica table is covered in white boxes in various sizes.

“Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“Are those what I think they are?”  He gestures towards the boxes with a finger and looks back at his angel, brows raised in surprise.

Castiel clears his throat and nods, “I was not sure which was your favorite, so I…”

“Bought one of each?”  Dean asks incredulously as he moves to open the closest box, groaning softly as the smell of apple pie fills the room.  The smile that spreads across the hunter’s face is blissful; his eyes alight with genuine happiness.  “Cas, man…you’re awesome.”


End file.
